


Not in Blood (But in Bond)

by belikebumblebee



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-11
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2017-12-26 07:31:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/963253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belikebumblebee/pseuds/belikebumblebee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And when Myka wakes up in the middle of the night, she is not alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [themysteryvanishing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/themysteryvanishing/gifts).



> For Rosa, who brightened my day with a lovely surprise.

Myka wakes up slowly like a flower around four in the morning, and there‘s a familiar face gazing at her with an aching sort of affection. Something inside of her stirs and she feels like _crying_. Stretching her fingers, she tries to swallow but it hurts.  
  
"You‘re an idiot.“, she is greeted, but the tone is soft and sweet. "How‘s it going?“  
  
Myka has never heard this voice that way. She turns her head slowly to get a better look, and tries to focus.  
The woman is sitting in the chair next to her bed, her legs stretched out and her ankles crossed, elbows propped up on the armrests, hands interlaced. Something in her face in posture is so different and Myka is still feeling so hazy, but there‘s something about her. All over her.  
Something unwound that used to be tense. Something steady that used to be insecure.  
  
"Claudia“, Myka says, but she can‘t find her voice. Claudia shifts and leans toward her, and even the way she moves is altered - Myka can‘t put her finger on it.  
  
"Want some water?“  
  
She nods, and Claudia offers her a pink straw in a glass of still water. When she‘s had enough, Myka sinks back against her pillow. „So why am I an idiot“, she croaks.  
  
"Because we _love_ you.“, Claudia replies and sets down the glass. There it is again - her motions are so deliberate and under control that everything she does is almost soundless.  
  
"That doesn‘t even make sense.“  
  
"Yeah, it does. You know it does.“  
  
Myka can‘t think words. Her consciousness is only a flurry of pictures and emotion that swells on and off. In this moment, she suddenly remembers when she was ten and got injured during a fencing contest. She had spend ten days in her bed. Something whirrs inside her heart.  
  
Claudia‘s voice is low and soothing somehow when she says:  
"The others were here already, when you woke up the first time. Artie gave you a speech about how you should have told him and Steve awkwardly punched your shoulder and then apologized a lot. It was adorable, by the way. Abigail brought some of your books", she gestures towards the nightstand, "and Pete 'had something in his eye‘... You don‘t remember anything because you were still trippin‘ balls, but he totally cried.“  
  
The corners of her mouth curve upwards and Myka allows herself to let this wave of love wash over her. _She‘s not ten right now._  
  
"Mrs F was here, too. At some point the nurses said only one person could stay over night, and like any good ex-inmate of a mental institution, I am unpredictable and therefore _awesome_ at rock, paper, scissors.“, Claudia resumes. _She's being taken cared of. Cared for._  
  
"I hate rock, paper, scissors.“, Myka caws.  
  
Claudia leans back and looks her with an affectionate smirk. "Just because you suck at it."  
For a moment, they are silent; Myka closes her eyes and just breathes.  
In... and out. In like the waves rolling towards the shore, cockling and curling; out like the sea pulling the billows away from the beach.  
  
She can hear someone cough close by, maybe in the room next to her own. Wailing, further away. Maybe at the other end of the floor.  
Her abdomen hurts, but not as much as she would expect it to hurt after being cut open, rummaged around in and sewn shut - she must still be on the good drugs, then.  
  
"I beat Paracelsus today“, Claudia quietly says out of nowhere.  
  
Myka opens her eyes and turns to her. _What?_  
  
A blissful smile on her lips and her head resting against the back of her chair, Claudia gazes at the ceiling.  
  
"Alone. It was just me and him and the Warehouse. And I won.“  
  
Myka‘s eyes widen, but Claudia, here and without a scratch, whispers _it was fucking amazing_ like she isn‘t really talking to her, and Myka‘s heart pounds.    
She waits for her to continue. Claudia rolls her head to the side so she can look at her. "The Warehouse chose _me_. It protected _me_. It was crazy, I can‘t even... explain it...“  
  
She puts both feet on the ground and in Myka‘s drugged up mind she is literally on fire for a second or two.  
  
"Guess I‘m the Caretaker now.“  
  
Myka smiles, something wet in the corner of her eye, and rasps: "How‘s it feel?“  
  
Claudia smiles back and Myka can see the girl in her, the one she never met, the one who knew nothing about dimensions and wonder and battles. "Pretty damn great.“  
  
"‘m glad“, she answers, and it tastes bittersweet because their Claudia is all grown up.  
  
Claudia reaches out and wipes the tear away. "Hey, no sniveling“, she says gently, "I‘m not the one who got sliced open today. How do you feel?“  
  
"Stoned, mostly.“ Claudia laughs.  
"Did they...“ She trails off.  
  
"They said the surgery was a success. They wouldn‘t tell us anything else because none of us are listed on your next of kin list. Mrs Frederic had to pull the Secret Service card to make them let us see you at all.“  
  
Myka closes her eyes again, she feels so tired. "Yeah... Sorry ‘bout that.“  
  
"I think we‘ll let you off the hook just this once.“ She sounds so far away.  
  
"Hey, before you go back to your pain killer induced Sleeping Beauty state...“  
  
"Yeah..?“  
  
"Is there anything you need... for what follows?“

For what follows. _What follows._ She feels her throat close, she hesitates and starts and stops again. "I...“  
  
She didn‘t list anyone as her next of kin, and this is why. She isn‘t ready. She is not ready for what follows to follow at all. For once, she doesn‘t know what to need. They can‘t know that she‘s not prepared for this, because Myka Bering is _always_ prepared.  
  
Claudia‘s beringed hand sinks down on her own.  
  
"Okay, Mykes. We‘ll figure it out, you just sleep. And while you do, I will get H.G. for you.“  
  
She says it with such certainty.  
  
Myka breathes like the ocean as she drifts into sleep, and something deep inside of her twirls and then winds down.


	2. Chapter 2

The tea cup falls from her surprised hands and she catches it just a tad too fast to be Emily Lake.  
  
“Sorry“, her guest says smoothly. “Am I making you nervous?“  
  
It‘s Claudia, and it is not. Gone is the girl who was so nervous around H.G. Wells, gone the girl who doubted her own greatness. This woman suddenly sitting on her sofa is one Helena instinctively respects like an equal instead of an apprentice.  
(It is also one whose voice she has desperately missed, one whose development brings tears of pride to her eyes. She blinks them away.)  
  
“How did you get in?“, she asks, and knows it‘s a play for time. Something tells her this is not a surprise visit just to chitchat. Her hands are cold. (Why are her hands cold?)  
  
“Ah, you know me. I got my ways.“  
  
They share a long look, and Helena‘s heart pounds like it‘s trying to tell her something.  
  
“Tea?“, she finally offers. Claudia smiles and allows her another moment. “Yeah. Two sugars, no milk.“  
  
Helena watches her hands as they get another cup from the shelf, the one that she never uses because it used to be Adelaide‘s favorite, back when her porcelain was Nate’s and Nate’s was hers. She watches as they pour hot water and drop two sugar cubes into the hot liquid, watches them take a spoon and stir as if they weren’t her own fingers. The porcelain clatters when she places the cup on its saucer. She prepares her own tea as well and passes the time it needs to brew by packing everything away: the sugar, the water boiler, the tea, her frightened feeling.  
The silence feels odd and awkward, but Claudia just sits and waits until she runs out of things to do, run out of places to hide, until she has to serve the tea.  
  
“Hi, H.G.“, she says quietly when Helena has settled down in the armchair opposite her. “How are you doing?“  
  
“I‘m doing well enough“, Helena hears herself say and her mind races through possible scenarios that might have led up to Claudia sitting on her couch accompanied by this old feeling. She can sense it, the change coming on like autumn bleeding into wintertime.  
  
“How are things at the.“ She can‘t say it. “At. Your end?“  
  
Something curls in the corner of Claudia‘s mouth, gone too quickly for Helena to recognize it. She sets down her mug and looks her directly in the eye.  
  
“Your time‘s up, H.G..“  
  
Change settles down all over her, shivering against her skin and clicking against her self-enforced shackles like an impatient ghost. The air is still flickering with something...  
  
“It‘s been over a year, and this is the part where you tell me whether or not you’re going to come home with me.“  
  
Helena wants to say a lot of things. _Is this an ultimatum?_ she wants to ask. _I think I made it very clear that I am never coming back_ , she wants to tell her. _I need more time._  
I _‘m staying here._  
 _You cannot put me under this kind of pressure and expect me to respond positively._  
 _What do you want?_  
 _Go home._  
 _(Did she send you?)_  
 _What do you mean?_

She wants to say _But I don‘t know how._  
  
Out comes nothing. Her vast arsenal of words, what used to be her only weapon, just fails her like a worn-out and flawed engine.  
Claudia leans back against the couch. “I think you knew this day would come. I think if you were sure that this is the life you want to lead for the rest of your days, you‘d have looked the other way when you came across weird stuff that screamed ,artifact‘. If you wanted to be ordinary, you wouldn‘t be doing extraordinary things first chance you get. You know, like beating up corrupt police officers.“  
  
Something hard in Claudia‘s voice feels like a swat with a wet towel, but she‘s not done.  
  
“I think that if you truly wanted to be with that dude you met, you‘d probably be knocked up right now. If you craved a peaceful life as much as you say you do, there would be no mention of a super special spacey tesla gun with your design in Myka‘s report on the Pachycrocuta Jawbone. And if you were as over the Warehouse as you want us to think, you wouldn‘t choke on the word. I think“, Claudia cracks her knuckles, casually and probably subconsciously, but it rings in Helena‘s ears, “that you turned away but never walked. And now is your time to either come or go.“  
  
She lets her speech sink in before giving a tiny, encouraging smile. “C‘mon. You can‘t camp in the doorway forever. Not healthy for your back, you’re not getting any younger here.“  
  
Helena finishes her tea in three large gulps, it burns her tongue and throat and she can still hear her brother chastising her for impatience, she sets the cup down with a clatter and says: “All right, I am going to come back.“  
  
That‘s it. Helena is surprised at how little it takes - after all her hard work, the convincing and the waiting and the praying, after all the blissful hours in which she believed it herself,  and after sending Myka away with That Look on her face, all it takes is just a little speech with a joke and a smile from Claudia Donovan to reel her back in.  
  
Claudia, however, gets up and doesn’t smile anymore, and the tight feeling around Helena’s chest has not loosened one bit. (Tight, tight, tight.)  
“How long do you need?”  
  
She thinks about how long it will take her to get her affairs in order and realizes that there are none. A quarter of a year since Nate asked her to go and still he and his daughter are the only two people that tie her to this world that knows no Endless Wonder. She really was lying to herself. (Is. Why are her hands cold?) She stands up as well.  
  
“As long as it takes to pack a suitcase.”  
  
Her heart is racing and it just tumbles out of her, her worlds spilling all over the carpet. “Claudia, has something terrible happened?”  
  
Claudia’s shoulders don’t sag. Her spine stays straight and she raises her eyes to meet Helena’s gaze, unfalteringly. When she holds out both hands to take her cold, cold fingers in her own, Helena knows that the girl she knew has grown taller than either of them could have possibly imagined. Her voice does not quiver.  
  
“Myka has cancer.”  
  
Five syllables and Helena thinks if she takes one more breath, her rips are going to snap one by one, five syllables and her hands are cold, and her throat is tight, and her mind is blank.  
  
Five syllables and her feet are numb. And Myka is driving away with That Look on her face. 

Five syllables and she is  _falling,_ and Myka's answering machine plays her name over and over again. Five syllables and something twists, twists, twists until it breaks.  
  
Five syllables and Claudia is still holding her hands in some part of the universe, and with every ounce of strength that she has collected and preserved in the past year, Helena pulls her close. She folds her arms around them, gathering every bit of Claudia she can find, and they stay embraced for an indefinite amount of time.  
  
“I am the Caretaker”, Claudia quietly says into her shoulder after a while (in a voice that is hers through and through: weary and defiant and young) “I am the Caretaker. I take care.”  
  
Helena only hugs her harder, and closer, and better, until her hands warm up and Claudia’s shoulders relax.


End file.
